Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Batman and the Gotham Knights. I also don't own anything related to Lord of the Rings. They are the total and complete property of DC Comics and J.R.R. Tolkien.

Author's Note: Hello. As you can see I have one again updated in less than six months of my last update. School is still a killer (finals are on their way), and work is being a pain. But hopefully more writing time in the future… maybe.

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Chapter 33
The Rules of War

RIVENDELL, THREE WEEKS AGO.

Elrond Peredhel sat alone under one of the many gazebos of Rivendell, deep in thought while he stared aimlessly down at the pages of the book in his lap. Try as he might, he could not concentrate on the book’s words. His mind was filled with too many questions and not enough answers.

His foster son Aragorn was battling a war, which looked to have no good outcome. His twin sons had only recently returned after battling yet another force of Orcs that had attempted to cross the boarders to Rivendell, with many good elves lost. And most painful of all was that he had forced his beloved daughter Arwen to leave the shores of Middle-Earth and her heart’s true desire for the chance of safety that lay over the sea.

Was forcing her to leave their home and everything she had ever known and loved the right thing to do? Perhaps not, but what other choice did he have? He could live with his daughter’s anger and hatred, but at least she would be alive to be angry him.

‘And yet you can not expunge the guilt that you feel, can you daughter’s husband?’ asked a soft ethereal voice inside the elf-lord’s head. Elrond was not surprised by the sudden invasion of his thought and merely shook his head.

‘She is iel nín (my daughter), Galadriel,’ replied Elrond. ‘I couldn’t not stand by and allow her to throw her life away for a mortal who could not bring himself to embrace his own destiny. Would you have me do otherwise?’

Far away in Caras Galadhon of Lothlórien, Galadriel took a deep breath as she filled the metal basin full of water from her fountain. ‘Nay, I would rather Undómiel (Evenstar) leave Middle-Earth for the safety of Aman (Blessed Lands) and to be with my daughter, her mother, Celebrían. But I would also not wish her a lifetime of regret, either. Estel is worthy of Arwen, no matter how much we’d wish otherwise. He a good man.’

‘Yes, but a man is what he shall always be,’ Elrond said somewhat harshly.

‘I do not deny that,’ Galadriel replied, her tone remaining even if not slightly patronizing. ‘But can you forever look into her eyes and know that the pain you see there is this time your fault?’

“I am damned if I do and damned if I do not?”Elrond whispered to himself aloud.

‘Such language Peredhel,’ Galadriel chuckled.

‘Was there are reason that you have graced me with your presence, my lady?’ Elrond demanded. The Lady of the Wood ignored the tone as she lifted her pitcher and poured out a bit of the contents into her mirror on the stone pedestal.

‘Of course there is.’

Every day since the departure of the Fellowship, Galadriel had gazed into her mirror, looking for some gaze of light in a steadily darkening world. The images in her mirror were different with every look, as it would reveal the various ways that this war for could be won or lost. Most recently the vision had been leaning towards the later. Even from this distance she could sense the problems that were slowly eating away at Frodo, Sam and the creature Gollum as they moved to Mordor. And Sauron’s power was growing stronger as his gaze narrowed in on Gondor. Time was running out.

Clearing her mind, Galadriel gently touched the intricately designed silver ring upon her middle finger and looked down into the reflection of the mirror. It began as it always did, where the water began to cloud followed by the appearances of images from the past, present and possible future. She could see Sam and Frodo climbing a massive rock face, near the Tower of Cirith Ungol. The image altered and the elf queen could see the sickly creature Gollum glaring down at them with a sinister smile hidden behind the false mask of kindness.

Neither Galadriel nor Elrond were all that comfortable with the company that the Ring Bearer had chosen, for they trusted the creature that had once called itself Sméagol as far as… well as far as Frodo could throw him. But they could sense that the gardener Samwise Gamgee felt the same way. They could only hope that his stout heart would be there to protect Frodo for when the other preverbal shoe dropped.

Just as the image began to change again both rulers clenched their teeth when suddenly they felt the silver rings around their fingers flare to life. Like Frodo, Elrond and Galadriel were also Ring Bearers. Where Galadriel wore the Nenya, the Elven ring of Water, Elrond was the keeper of Vilya, the ring of Air. These rings strengthened their already formidable abilities, but that was not always a good thing.

In their minds they could see a vision of many black boats filled with foul men on the move. The image changed and now they could see a large sinister creature with many legs chasing after Frodo. The next image was of Sam wielding the glowing blade of Sting.

A blonde man in silver armor was riding forth towards a destroyed city, his sword raised high as he led a small army.

A field of battle could then be seen, and thousands lay dead. A city of white was burning.

A child wore a smile of pure evil as he spoke to a creature cloaked in black robes and wearing a large iron mask/crown.

The image altered again and Robin and Batgirl were standing stalk still in the field, a look an apprehension on their faces as they looked from a pool of glowing light to the battle behind them.

Next was Legolas firing arrow after arrow, while Gimli threw an axe that impaled itself into the skull of Orc.

A blonde woman was battling against the creature in the iron mask/crown.

Aragorn was being held down by an unseen opponent, unable to defend himself and he cried out in pain.

Again the image changed and they could see a massive cavern, the likes of which neither had ever seen. For a moment Elrond and Galadriel could see the shadows of a several men and women, but before they could make out whom they were the cavern filled with a blinding golden light.

Yet again the image changed and Arwen was dressed in black, as she stood over the still body of an aged Aragorn, unable to pull herself from his side. The final image they saw was that of a massive black bird of prey which blocked out the stars and a bright full moon and then theworld fell silent and all hope seemed lost.

Both of the elf rulers gasped as their visions ended abruptly and their fingers continued to feel as if they were on fire. A feeling of weakness and nausea struck Galadriel as she stumbled back from her pedestal and landed in the arms of her husband, Celeborn who wore an expression of great concern.

“What did you see?” he asked urgently.

Bringing her hand to her mouth, Galadriel could not bring herself to reply.

Elrond meanwhile rubbed his temples, in an attempt to process all the information that had flown through his mind. The visions were so vivid, and he could not help but wonder what that could mean for the world this time. As he wiped the sweat from his brow and retrieved his book, he gave himself the comfort that his children would be far from this evil.

“Tell me what you have seen,” demanded a new voice, and Elrond turned to see his daughter Arwen raced towards him, followed closely by her brothers Elladan and Elrohir both of who looked equally shocked by her unexpected return to Rivendell.

“Arwen,” he began, but she immediately cut him off.

“You have the gift of foresight,” the Evenstar persisted; with a look of anger mixed with hurt in those pools of blue she called eyes. “What did you see?”

The half-elf gazed hard at his daughter. She could not mean the visions that he had just seen. No, this was something else. Something he wished with all his heart that he did not need to retell. “I looked into your future, and I saw death.”

“But there is also life,” Arwen shot back furiously. “You saw there was a child. You saw my son.”

“That future is almost gone,” Elrond said, turning his back to his children.

“But it is not lost.”

Sitting down on the bench, Elrond gave deep sigh. He seemed so much older than any of his children have ever seen him before. He had always spoken to them of how no matter what there would always be hope so long as they breathed. They did not hear that from him this time. “Nothing is certain.”

“Some things are certain,” Arwen said taking the book from his grasp. She then reached out and cupped her father’s face and forced him to look at her. She was so young by elf standards, and yet he could see a wisdom that he felt put him to shame. “If I leave him now I will regret it forever.”

The twins watched the display between their father and sister with solemn expression. Like their father, they could not bare to lose their sister, even if it were to the love of their foster brother, but they could not bare to cause her pain. She loved Aragorn more than any other thing in her long existence. And they both knew that the same held true for him. Even as a child when Aragorn first met Arwen, it had been love at first site. Elrohir stepped forth and took a deep breath.

“You know what we must now do Adar,” he said.

“Tis time,” Elladan added. “The sword must be re-forged.”

Elrond shook his head. “He turned from that path long ago,” he reminded his children. “He will not accept it.”

“I disagree, old friend.” Everyone turned to see the eldest of hobbit kind, Bilbo Baggins walking towards them, while leaning heavily on walking stick. Although he was considerably smaller than everyone, his winkled forehead was furrowed, and he looked at them with a serious expression that made them stop and listen. “Your children are right, Elrond and you know it. Or have you forgotten what is written?

“From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
a light from the shadow shall spring
Renewed shall be the blade that was broken,
the crownless again shall be king.”

Bilbo smiled as he finished reciting the poem. “The Dúnadan (Man of the West) needs it. A king is nothing without his sword.”

Arwen smiled gratefully at her siblings and most of all Frodo and turned back to her father with a pleading expression. “Adar…”

Elrond gazed at his beloved daughter, and then at the twins. He knew what they asked of him, but for once his wisdom was waning and all he desired was the safety of those he loved. He turned from his daughter, unable to meet her imploring gaze, yet as he did so, Arwen’s legs had given out from under her causing her to fall back onto the bench nearest her. The book that she had taken from her father fell to the ground with a soft thud.

“Arwen?” the twins said together and moving quickly to her side with concerned expression.

Elrond knelt down slowly and picked up the book, before looking down at Arwen. Her eyes were dim and he reached out for her hand. “Your hands are cold,” he said in shock that was replaced with horrified realization. “The life of the Eldar is leaving you.”

“This was my choice,” she stated softly and her face was draining of color. “Whether by your will or not… there is no ship that can bear me hence.”

“Pen vell (Dear one)…” Elladan murmured, with a look of fear in his eyes. There were few things that could sober the rambunctious nature of the twins, but the safety of their beloved sister was one of them. Arwen reached up and cupped his face and offered both him and Elrohir a sad smile. With tears in their eyes, the twins looked to their father. They knew that without Aragorn, their sister would surely perish now.

“What do you say?” Bilbo asked from beside the half-elf, who looked out over his valley, deep in thought.

“We will need help,” Elrond said with a grim expression.

Cheshire smiles appeared on the faces of Elladan and Elrohir. “We have that covered,” they said together.

---

THE CITY OF EDORAS, ROHAN, THE PRESENT

The peacefulness that Rohan had been enjoying for nearly a week was shattered as a lone bell of warning rung out. Word had quickly gone out that the King was assembling all the forces of his realm so as to answer the summons of Gondor. It had been many years since last the torches were lit, but it was enough to show that something terrible was occurring in the White City.

“Assemble the army at Dunharrow,” Théoden ordered, as he and Éomer exited the Golden Hall. Both were clad in their best battle armor, swords strapped to their sides and their helmets under each arm. As many men as can be found, you have two days.” Éomer nodded, and moved quickly but was stop when his uncle grabbed his arm and looked at him seriously. “On the third, we ride for Gondor and War.”

Again the younger man nodded. “Forward!” he called out as he raced down the stairs to his men.

Théoden watched his nephew disappear into the crowds below and swelled with pride. He had failed his family so much in the past years, and yet they had turned out so better than he had ever expected. Éomer would make a great king one day.

“Are you sure… you want to do this?” Batgirl asked Merry as she handed him his short-sword. The young hobbit held the weapon and nervously began to shift in his weight from foot to foot.

“No,” he admitted softly, before looking over his shoulder at where King Théoden spoke to Gamling. “But I have to Cassie. I have to do this fer Frodo and Sam and Pippin. Someone has to stand up fer the Shire and be counted.”

Crouching down to Merry’s level, Batgirl brushed a long strand of his curly dark-blonde hair aside and smiled at him fondly. “Merry… you rock.”

“Huh? How am I a rock?” Merry asked.

“No, I mean, you’re… a good person,” Cassie replied. “I’m proud of you.”

A wide smile appeared on the hobbit’s face. He wasn’t sure if he’d have the guts to do this without such confidence from his friends. He wasn’t a soldier. He wasn’t a hero. He was just a hobbit who had gotten in over his head. But over his head or no, he would do what needed to be done. Giving a deep sigh, and looking at Batgirl one last time, Merry walked to where Théoden stood.

“Excuse me,” he said loudly. The King turned to look at him in surprise and for a brief moment it looked as if Merry were about to lose his nerve. But after taking a deep breath and mustering all the courage he could muster, he dropped to one knee and held up his sword toward the King with both palms. “I…I have a sword. A-And I, Meriadoc of the Shire, lay upon your lap. I offer ye my service, Théoden King.”

Théoden examined this small creature, which until a few days ago he thought to be only a legend of his childhood. Whether it was curiosity or merely his old age, Théoden felt a great deal of admiration for the Halfling. His stern features softened and he laid his gloved hand upon Merry’s brown hair in a sign of a blessing.

“And I will gladly accept it. Rise now Meriadoc, esquire of Rohan of the household of Meduseld.” He reached down and drew the hobbit back to his feet. “Take your sword and bear it unto good fortune!”

As he stood, Merry smiled up at king. “Thank ye me lord.”

“You shall ride with me, Master Hobbit. I have a good hill-pony that can be made ready for you. He will bear you as swift as any horse by the roads that we shall take. Go forth now, and seek my niece Éowyn, for she will show you the beast of which I speak.”

Merry nodded with an excited glint in his eyes that had not been seen since Pippin and Gandalf had left. He immediately raced to Batgirl and hugged her tightly around the waist. Cassandra returned the embrace and was unable to hide the smile as she watching him race off in search of Éowyn, nearly falling down the stairs as he ran. Cassie couldn’t help but be amazed at the young Brandybuck’s resilience in the face of such loss and pain.

“They truly are amazing folk, are they not?” Théoden asked, apparently sharing the same thoughts as Cassandra.

“Yup,” she replied with a nod. “I always think… Gotham needs Hobbits. They… so small but very brave. They’re good people.”

Théoden nodded, but with a more solemn expression. “Am I to take it that you will be joining us in battle again, Lady Cassandra?”

Batgirl tensed, and looked at the king with narrowed eyes. “Yes,” she grunted firmly.

Théoden didn’t look at her, but continued to stare out over Edoras, before saying the one thing she hadn’t expected.

“Good. I am pleased to hear that.”

Before Batgirl could react, the King had strolled casually down the stairs to join his troops, leaving her gaping in surprise at his retreating back.

---

“Horsemen,” Gimli said gruffly from his seat behind Legolas on their shared horse. The two mismatched friends watched as the Rohan army assembled their forces for the journey to the Dunharrow. “I wish I could muster a legion of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy."

“Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war,” Legolas replied forebodingly. “I fear war already marches on their own lands.”

“Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t ye elf?” Gimli said with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. “Perhaps ye’d like to dangle a loaf of bread in front of some starving children?”

“And perhaps, Master Dwarf, you would care to tell me where you received that black eye?” Legolas asked with an impish smile.

Gimli touched the tender area around his left eye and felt his face turn an embarrassed shade of red. “I-I fell,” he lied. He really had no desire to tell the Elf Prince that he had been accidentally elbowed in the face by Batgirl (At least, he had assumed it was an accident the first time she had done it….) He’d never hear the end of it.

Legolas allowed himself a soft chuckle that he didn’t attempt to hide. Neither he nor Gimli were certain what would come of the following days, but they were glad to be fighting along side each other and their friends.

“Have you seen Aragorn or Robin?” the prince of Mirkwood asked after a moment. His piercing eyes began to scan the crowds of people, but he couldn’t seem to find any sign of either of their companions.

“Hmm… Now that ye mention it, nay I haven’t,” Gimli replied, furrowing his brow. “I saw them walk off this morning, but not since then.”

“Hey guys,” Batgirl called as she rode up on Nadia, with Merry trotting along on his own white pony. He was dressed in the colors of a Rohirrim Rider uniform that had once been used by Éomer when he had been a boy. “Look at Merry. He’s all… fancy warrior guy now.”

Merry blushed furiously and shifted a bit uncomfortably in his new gear. “It’s a bit heavy,” he mumbled.

“Ye look great lad,” Gimli said approvingly. “A right true soldier.”

“Pippin and the others would be proud of you,” Legolas added with a smile. “I know that the rest of us are.”

Again Merry blushed, but the grateful smile he wore was unmistakable.

“We ready to go?” Batgirl asked.

“Almost,” Legolas answered. “But have you seen Tim and Aragorn? They have apparently disappeared.”

“We’re right here bro,” Robin said, riding up behind them on Redd alongside Aragorn on Brego. “Sorry, we had a few… things that we needed to get ready before we headed out.”

“What sort of things?” Merry asked curiously.

Robin and Aragorn’s only replies were a side-glance at one another and matching raised eyebrows before they kicked their heels and sped their horses towards where the King waited.

---

The journey from Edoras to Dunharrow was roughly a day’s ride by horse, though the company of Rohan was pushing their beasts well above the norm. Even Merry’s pony was working double time as they moved to the encampment where they would assemble an army to battle Mordor. The troops was silent at first, but even with such danger ahead, chatter began to break out amongst the company.

“…And it is anisland made entirely of women warriors?” Éowyn asked excitedly. As the company had traveled, they had begun talking about small trivial things in order to take their minds off the coming days. Somehow they had moved to the subject of super-heroes from Robin and Batgirl’s world and that in turn led to the topic of Wonder Woman and Themyscira.

Batgirl nodded. “Yup. No men.”

“Well, until about a year ago,” Robin corrected. “After Queen Hippolyta died, Wonder Woman decided to make Paradise Island open to all people to visit. But yeah, it’s still an island of warrior women. Though the warrior stuff is just the physical and spiritual training for the most part. They actually are a very peaceful people.”

After a moment it became obvious that Robin was wasting his breath, since Éowyn didn’t seem all that interested in the spiritual aspect of the Amazons. Instead she looked up at the sky with a dreamy sort of look. She could not believe that somewhere there was a place where women were not only allowed to become warriors but also encouraged in it. “If only I were able to see such a thing…”

“Are you certain it is wise to tell her such tales, little brother?” Legolas asked Robin in a low whisper.

“Its not a ‘tale’ Legolas. You know that,” Robin replied with a shrug. “And besides, what’s wrong with it? I seem to recall that you in particular were VERY interested when I told you about the Amazons back in Mirkwood.”

“It is nothing I find wrong with the subject, but her uncle on the other hand might,” Legolas replied tilting his head towards the back of King Théoden. “We told you how he behaved when Cassandra offered her services initially at Helms Deep. And while he may be willing to accept Batgirl as a fighter, but I do not believe he will be so open to his daughter being encouraged.”

“So you think we might be re-enforcing Éowyn’s desire to fight?” The elf prince nodded. “Legolas, if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that when a girl wants to fight, then they’ll find a way to do it, one way or another. Anything we say otherwise is just going to be a waste of breath.”

Gimli gave Legolas a soft punch in the back of his shoulder from behind. “Tim’s right Elf. The lassie is a warrior. Ye can see it in her eyes. Dinnae seems fair to try and stop that. Besides, those Amazons sound like my kind of woman.” Legolas and Robin couldn’t help but bust out laughing at this.

It was nearing mid-afternoon when at last they saw the cliffs of the Dunharrow. There was a great deal of apprehension from the company that did not go unnoticed by the Fellowship. Batgirl in particular had noticed, since the body language of many troops all but screamed how very much they wished to be where else.

“What’s with them?” she asked Éowyn curiously. She pointed her thumb to a group of men who were eyeing the mountain fearfully and speaking in hushed whispers.

The shield maiden gave a deep sigh, partially because the subject of Themyscira was being replaced with a subject far less interesting although far more disturbing. “They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain,” she replied forebodingly. “For high on those cliffs is the road to the Dimholt, the door under the mountain. None who venture there ever return. The mountain is said to be evil.”

“Why?” Batgirl asked.

“It is the Path of the Dead.” The girls looked up to where Aragorn rode ahead of them with a grim expression. “Soldiers who had betrayed the king of old were cursed, and their spirits forever reside in the caverns within.”

“Aragorn… are you alright?” Batgirl asked him worriedly. She could see the apprehension that ran through his body, and his normally strong grey eyes were unnerved. The ranger did not reply though and merely continued onward, leaving both Batgirl and Éowyn to exchange concerned looks.

As the company cleared a final hill, many were surprised by what they saw before them. The people of Rohan had answered their king’s call. Already there were hundreds of tents and fires set up, with just as many men dressed in armor. Rohan banners were wafting in the breeze and shouts of greetings came from the camp as the King’s company crossed through.

---

Hours later, Théoden paced rapidly in his tent like a caged lion. After the royal camp was set, he had called for Aragorn and all his captains to join him so they might discuss strategies for the coming battle. The only ones who had not yet arrived were Aragorn and his nephew Éomer. He had hoped that Éomer would have returned from gathering the men of Eastfold by now.

“Surely Éomer is on his way,” Merry said from his position at the King’s side. “There is no need to be worried, milord.” Théoden had allowed young Meriadoc to sit on the meeting well, mostly because he felt a great deal of affection for the hobbit that had now taken an oath as his esquire. Still, he did not seem to take notice of the Merry’s attempts at easing his mind as he continued to pace back and forth aggressively.

“What if something has befallen him…?” he mumbled to himself. Even with Saruman defeated, the orcs that survived still ran free. What if they had come across the young Horse Marshal?

“Uncle?”

Théoden turned to see Éomer enter, with his helmet under his arm. Aside from a somewhat winded breath, it was obvious that Théoden’s fears were unnecessary. The aging king broke into a smile as he pulled the younger man into a tight embrace. “What took you?” he asked with deadpan humor.

“We chose to take the scenic route,” Éomer said with a sly smile causing Théoden to laugh heartily before turning to the rest of his war council, who bowed in greeting to the newly arrived Horse Lord.

“Where is Lord Aragorn?” Éomer asked, upon taking stalk of all those assembled.

“He said he would be here shortly,” replied Gamling. “Though he did not explain why he would be delayed.”

The king gave a deep sigh. “Very well. Then we will start without him,” he said. “Grimbold, how many from the Westfold?“

“I bring 500 men, my lord,” replied the aging soldier.

“We have 300 more from Fenmarch, Théoden King,” stated another.

The king continued to pace the length of his tent, stroking his beard in thought. That was 800 on top of all those that he had brought from Edoras. “Where are the riders from Snowbourn?”

“None have come, my lord,” answered Gamling reluctantly.

The scowl on Théoden’s face was enough to turn fresh butter. That did not bode well for them. They had barely made it out of Helm’s Deep alive and Sauron’s army would surely be ten times what they had face before.

“They will come,” stated the sudden voice of Aragorn, as he entered the tent. “We must trust that.”

“Lord Aragorn,” Théoden said, a hint of relief in his voice. “What took you so?”

“I apologies, Théoden King,” the ranger replied. “I was preoccupied. Are we ready to begin?”

With a nod from the King, the Éomer rolled out several maps onto the table and everyone took a stance around the table. “We have received word from our scouts nearest Gondor tell us that the not only is Mordor sending forth its forces and they move towards the Pelennor fields.” Éomer stated, pointing to each area with his index finger. “They are already said to have entered the city of Osgiliath.”

“The city of Osgiliath is said to defended by Faramir, the son of Denethor and brother of Boromir,” Aragorn said, recalling his talks with Boromir. The fallen son of Gondor had always spoke so highly of his brother. But even Boromir knew that the Osgiliath would not survive the constant attacks from Mordor. “The former capital of Gondor is not of importance though.”

“Agreed,” Théoden said before pointing to the Pelennor Fields. “It is here, that we shall make our stand against Sauron’s Army. If Gondor is wise, they’d have already emptied the towns that surround the Fields. The wall of Rammas Echor will keep them from escape, perhaps.”

Éomer took a deep breath. “True, but there is great movement from the south as well. The Southern Lands are said to answer the call of Sauron.” A murmur of worry broke out amongst the captains. Mordor was bad enough, but the Southerners were renown for being dedicated followers of Sauron.

“They are only men,” Aragorn said reassuringly. “Not the relentless monsters we are told in the old wives tales.”

“And what of the Nazgûl?” Gamling spat with a hint of sarcasm. “Are THEY simply men as well? I have heard they leave the walls of Minas Morgul, and stalk the land. It is hopeless.”

“Nothing is ever hopeless, if you have the right plan.”

Everyone shared confused looks at the unexpected voice and turned to see Robin standing in the corner of the tent wearing his trademark scowl. His body was concealed behind the Lothlórien cloak, and despite the pale greenish-grey color of the cloth, it gave him a rather foreboding appearance. No one had even noticed him enter the tent, nor did they know how long he had been there.

“Robin?” Merry said in surprise. “When did you…?”

“What is he doing here?” Théoden asked Aragorn and in turn interrupting Merry.

Neither Robin nor Aragorn’s face betrayed any emotion as the ranger moved to where Robin stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. “He is here because I asked that he come.”

“And why is that?”

Aragorn didn’t miss a beat. “Because I feel that we could use him.”

“He’s a child.”

“So were you once,” Aragorn retorted with a pointed look, making an obvious implication to many years back “Sire, I understand your reluctance, but you know what Master Robin is capable of. He has been well trained and I trust his skill as both a strategist, and fighter, despite his young age. I think we would do well to take advantage of that.”

Théoden continued to glower, signaling he did not entirely agree with that assessment. He had no problem with Robin joining in the coming battle as a fighter. He had been roughly Tim’s age when he first road into battle. And yes Robin had shown himself to be very exceptional during Helms Deep and Isengard, but allowing someone of his age to discuss strategy with his top captains and himself was really pushing the envelope from his standpoint.

After a moment of silence, Éomer stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Uncle, forgive me, but Lord Aragorn is right. I have traveled with Robin and fought alongside him. He has willingly put his life on the line for perfect strangers, and even risked a great deal by facing Saruman. My men and I trust him. Surely we may--“

“What would you have me do?” Théoden snapped. “Give him a command in my army, simply on your say so?”

“Of course not,” spoke Robin for the fist time. Théoden instinctively turned to Robin, glaring at him critically but the boy did not waver. He had grown very used to defending his skills to people over the years. And he seemed to do that quite a bit since he arrived in Middle-Earth. Many assumed just because he was a teenagers and a sidekick that he was to be coddled and patronized. They often found themselves mistaken. “I’m only here to help. You can take my suggestions or leave them. But to be perfectly frank sir: You can’t turn away any help that’s offered at this point.”

The king continued to glare at Robin, who refused to break his own calm and collect gaze. The boy’s voice had remained serious and even at all times, and he was showing a sense of leadership that wasn’t very common amongst children of his age. Yes he knew that Robin was capable and outspoken, but he still had problems putting his faith into strangers since faith was so easily broken. But if he had learned anything after Helms Deep it was that he needed to learn to trust people again.

“What do you have to offer us?” Théoden finally asked. The only reply he received was when Robin pulled an Orc crossbow from under his grayish-green elvish cloak and tossed onto his map-covered desk, followed by an arrow with a long line of rope tied to the end.

“Where did you get that?” demanded Gamling who stared at the weapon with apprehension.

“After Helms Deep I had some of the men collect them from the dead Orcs that we had lying around,” Robin explained. “Your archers got great skill, but as much as I hate to say it, the Orcs had the better idea. These weapons get more distance and more power behind them than handheld an archer’s bow your people use. We’ll need some strong firepower if we want to make it though this in one piece.”

The King thought about it for a moment. It was a good point. Their archers had done a fair job of keeping back Saruman’s army during Helm’s Deep, but they still had problem breaking the armor. Meanwhile the Orcs had been able to cut through the Rohirrim armor and mail with immense ease.

“But they take longer to reload,” Gamling stated. “We don’t have time to reload them during a battle of this size.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that, Gamling,” Robin replied evenly. “But the thing is, we’re only going to need to use them for some very specific targets. We won’t just be dealing with Orcs this time around, gang.”

Théoden arched his eyebrow curiously. He was growing more intrigued by the moment, though he was still suspicious. “Then why is there a rope tied to the end of that arrow?”

Robin gave a wicked smile and he proceeded to explain his ideas.

---

Night had fallen over the camp and the moon had been cutting in and out behind the passing clouds. Théoden’s war council had ended shortly before nightfall and now Robin, Legolas, Gimli, Gamling and Éomer assembled around a blazing campfire while talking quietly to one another and sharing a late dinner. They all turned around to see Merry rush out of a tent, brandishing his small blade while dressed in his child-size Rohirrim Armor, followed by a smiling Cassandra and Éowyn.

“To the Smithy,” Éowyn told him with a giggle. “Go!”

“And don’t stab anyone!” Batgirl added.

“You should not encourage him,” Éomer grunted, only to receive a smack upside the head from Batgirl. “Aye! What was that for?”

“You said… something stupid. So I hit you,” Batgirl snapped.

“I am merely speaking the truth,” Éomer replied, rubbing the back of his head. “I do not doubt the Hobbit’s heart, only the reach of his arm.” Gamling and he chuckled under their breaths and received cold glares from the others. They both also received a slap upside the head from Batgirl. “Ack! Will you please stop doing that?”

“Will you please stop… being stupid?”

“Why should Merry be left behind?” Éowyn demanded. “He has as much cause to go to war as you. Why can he not fight for the ones he loves?”

“You know as little of war as that hobbit,” Éomer said, standing to face his sister.

Batgirl raised her fist to do more than slap Éomer this time, but Robin’s hand halted her. She stared at Tim incredulously, but his pointed look told her to wait.

Éomer walked slowly towards his sister, emphasizing each word her spoke. “When the fear takes him and the blood and the screams and the horror of battle take hold… Do you think he would stand and fight? He would flee. And he would be right to do so. War is the province of Men, Éowyn.”

Éowyn glared at her brother, feeling each word cut into her heart like a hot knife. The others, with the exception of Gamling were staring at Éomer like he had grown a second head, and Batgirl could not take any more of it. She broke free of Robin’s hold and grabbing Éomer by the collar threw him down to the ground.

“Fight me,” she growled.

“What?” Éomer grunted. “Why would I do that?”

“You say fight… and war is for men only?” Batgirl demanded. “I’m not a man. So prove it. Fight me. Prove that… women can’t handle fighting.”

The horrified look in Éomer’s eyes showed that now he finally understood why Batgirl had been smacking him. He had not only just stuck his foot into his mouth; he had put the entire leg in there. Despite the fact she was considerably smaller than him, he knew he had not chance of holding his own against her in any sort of fight. “This is not the same thing,” he defended. “My sister is not like you. You are a rare exception.”

“Ex… Exception? That’s bullsh--“

“Enough!” Legolas interrupted and he stepped in between Éomer and Cassandra. “There is no need for anger and violence.”

“Besides,” Robin began in calm and eased voice, “Éomer’s right Batgirl. You are a MAJOR exception to just about everything. Éomer shouldn’t have to fight you.” The others stared at Robin in shock, except for Éomer who wore a triumphant smile until the Teen Wonder pointed in the direction of Éowyn. “He should fight her.”

“What?” Éomer cried. “You cannot be serious!”

Robin eyes narrowed and his voice lost the ease from before. “Dead serious. Where Cassie and I come from, woman are every bit as good as the men, if not better in some cases. Your people taught women to use a sword and defend themselves, but when they offer to help in times of crisis, you turn them down? That doesn’t make much sense, my friend.

“You haven’t given one good reason why Éowyn is unsuited for battle aside from spouting out the stereotypical sexist drivel that honestly doesn’t prove or do anything except defeat the basic civil rights given to each person here.” Robin stepped besides Éowyn and placed a hand on her shoulder, though his eyes remained fixed on Éomer. “So why not put this whole matter to rest? Show us why Éowyn is so inept for fighting.”

Éomer glared at Robin harshly, for he felt very offended and angered. “Robin, you know that I appreciate your opinion and your skills, but both you and Cassandra are crossing a line that is none--”

“No,” Éowyn interrupted forcefully. “They are right. You continue to tell me time and again that I have no place in battle. You tell me that I am not suited to fight. Then prove it. I challenge you, Éomer.”

“This is unheard of!” Éomer snapped, looking for someone to support him. Gamling looked ready to say something, until the glares of Robin, Batgirl, Legolas and Gimli silenced him.

“What’s the matter laddie?” Gimli asked the Horse Marshal sarcastically. “Afraid you’ll lose to yer wee sister?”

Éomer’s glower went from Gimli, to Legolas to Robin to Batgirl and finally to his sister, whose eyes were narrowed in an icy kind of stare down.

“I fear nothing,” he snapped.

“Good,” Robin said, tossing Éomer his sword. “One on one. No holding back. Each of you will fight with everything you have until you have disarmed the other.”

Batgirl drew the shield-maiden blade that Éowyn had given her and winked as she placed it in the blonde woman’s hands. In the firelight the brother and sister stood before one another. “You may back down,” Éomer said, regarding his sister patronizingly. “No one would think less of you.”

“If I wanted a lecture, my brother, I would be challenging our Uncle.”

“Very well.” Éomer brought his sword down at Éowyn. She sidestepped that attack and knocked his weapon aside with her own sword, after which she spun around to strike out at him. He deflected the attack with ease, and smirked which only fed his sister’s fury. She loved her brother with all of her heart, but sometimes he could be so patronizing that it made her want to beat the ever-loving tar out of him.

Their blades again met in a clash of sparks and the ring of steel on steel, and Éomer’s eyes flew open in shock as he the force of his sister's swords race up his arm. His sister had put far more strength behind that blow than he had anticipated. Not enough to disarm him, but enough to make him take notice.

He shook off his surprise when Éowyn followed up with a wide arch swing that he had to duke, in order to avoid losing his head. Spinning over a sharp thrust from his sister’s sword, Éomer grunted as a somewhat boney female elbow was landed on his left cheek.

Éomer had fought his sister in simple sparring sessions before but it had been ages ago when he hadn’t been so swamped with the duties of a Horse Marshal and trying to protect his people from the influence of a madman, controlling the king. They had been a little more than children back then. But her skills had developed far more than he had ever given her credit for. It was almost as if he was looking at her in an entirely different light. For too long he had always seen her as his younger sibling who was kind, dainty and in need of her brother’s constant protection. He knew that she longed for the glory of battle, but he had passed it off as a girl’s fancy that she had never fully comprehended the severity of. And yet here she was, holding her own against him. And her eyes… He had never before seen them blaze with such fire.

Little by little Éomer and Éowyn’s movement began to increase in speed and their attacks seemed more forceful. Soon it became questionable about who had the upper hand. Éomer had the strength, but Éowyn had speed. Where one lacked, the other made up for it.

A crowd of soldiers began to assemble around the display, both shocked and intrigued by their lord and lady. Many had seen their siblings spar, but never with such intensity. Gimli, Batgirl, Legolas and Robin were perhaps the only ones who did not seem all that surprised that Éowyn was holding her own against her brother. They all knew that she had skills with a blade, but only needed the chance to show it.

The siblings each made a wide-angled swing at each other with near identical movements. The steel clashed against one another, but the force behind the attacks proved too much, and thus sent each blade flying out of their owner’s grasp. Éomer and Éowyn slowly stood up, backs straight with their shoulders back and their blue eyes staring down one another. A long and awkward silence held the air, until Éowyn turned her head in self-disgust.

“What are you waiting for?” she demanded, tears brimming in her eyes. “You disarmed me. Tell me again how I am not suited for the life of war!”

But he said nothing of the sort. Instead the proud horse marshal of Rohan stepped forward and fell to one knee, while simultaneously taking her left hand.

“Forgive me.” Everyone stared at Éomer in shock as the eldest child of Éomund kissed his sister’s hand and bowed his head in shame. “I was wrong to belittle you my sister. Please accept my apology.”

Éowyn stared down at her brother, as if expecting him to breaking into a cruel grin and start laughing at her. But he did nothing of the sort. Instead he stared at her with regret and a sense of awe.

“I do not ask for your apology,” she said, pulling him to his feet and embracing him tightly. “I only ask for the right to fight for my people, my home and my family.”

Éomer gazed long and hard at his sister, but before he could reply, one of the watchmen came racing towards them with a startled expression. “Sire! A small army has passed the sentries and are moving towards our encampment!”

“Friend or foe?” Éomer demanded.

“We do not know, my lord.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

---

And now since it was recommended: Review Response.

Fusion Blaster: Yes, Gimli should be afraid of Batgirl’s wrath. Very afraid. (Mwahahaha...)

Kusco: Glad ya liked. Sending Robin or Batgirl to Gondor was a previous story idea, but I decided they’d be better suited with Aragorn and Théoden especially considering what is supposed to happen to them. Beside Gandalf can handle Gondor. As for Cassie’s more direct approach, well I’m not giving anything away, but Sauron isn’t controlling Batgirl. As for the chapter modifications, well basically 1-25 has had the updates, some more than others such as their time in Rivendell.

SxStrngSamuari: Thanks, and yes, that was rather naughty. Our little Cassandra is growing up. (Wipes away tears.)

Susan Hillwing: Thanks for your reviews and sorry you decided to quit at chapter 12. Oh well. Arwen does indeed have two brothers who make appearances in LOTR: Fellowship of the Ring & Return of the King. After reading a few LOTR fan fictions stories about the twins this past year, I started thinking I’d try expanding their characters further for the sake of mischief and fun.

Acasia Jules: I looked over chapter 20 and it wasn’t ‘unreadable’ as you claim. I think you may have read the stuff written in elvish and gotten confused there.

Funvince: Thanks a bunch and yes, a bit of levity was nice in consideration of the severity of the coming days. And both Cass and Robin are going to need what time they can get together before the end.

Well Done: Welcome and thanks. Batgirl and Gimli have their own type of humor that just plays so well off each other or alone. Silent and loud are a fun mix. As for Legolas and Robin’s friendship, I saw Legolas much in the same light as Nightwing. Brave, handsome, smart and über-skilled. And Tim has an amazing ability to make close friends with the most unexpected of people.

And thanks for the kind words from: trecebo, Theo Gary, Navi-Zero, Tim Digidestined of Loyalty, Coral Skipper, Indexus Acebrus, Ntwebguy, EyeofJune, Catgirl Elf Princess, DariusFF, gregdoreza, alex gunning, and Alia G. L.